Life's Not So Bad
by SilverCat63
Summary: Sam and Dean think about how their lives have changed since Sam came back to hunting. They figure that life isn't so bad, even if everything isn't perfect. Set mid-season 1, from both brothers' POV.


**Author's Note:** What was originally supposed to be a look at what Sam and Dean did between hunts turned into angst. I figured they have to have _some_ down time between all the salt and burns, and I needed something to ease me into writing _Supernatural_ fanfic. This is only my second ever in the fandom so any con crit is very welcome.

**_SpnSpnSpn_**

Sam settled back in his seat, ignoring the creak of old vinyl as he opened his laptop and started it. The good thing about towns this small was that someone nearby had to have a wireless hotspot and all the businesses were close enough that the signal would probably be accessible anywhere. He lucked out and connected easily.

His instant messengers automatically logged him in, and his screen immediately erupted in half a dozen chat boxes. The topic of discussion tonight seemed to be a really great football game that Sam had missed. He fielded the questions about what he was doing and when he was coming back with a sigh, trying to steer the conversation back to less difficult topics. Soon he lost himself in a heated discussion of plays and hot cheerleaders and forgot about ghosts and demons.

Eventually, almost everyone had logged off to go study or be with their significant other, and Sam decided he had had enough for the night. When the last message disappeared, he glanced around the bar for Dean. His brother was engaged in what sounded like a one-sided conversation about classic cars, mainly the benefits of such large back seats. Sam sighed and turned back to his computer.

Unwilling to loose his good mood by doing any research, he logged on to his latest gaming site and lost himself in card games. Yeah, he maybe shoulda looked for a real game and tried to contribute to their dwindling cash, but Sam preferred digital poker to real poker. Besides, he had almost five million points. If he won a few games tonight, he could easily hit five mill.

Years ago, just a few months even, Sam would have been studying. If he wasn't training, hunting, or researching, he was studying. It was just what he did. Even at Stanford he hadn't done much beyond study. He hadn't joined a fraternity or really participated in any clubs. He just studied.

Now, without school and anything to study for, Sam felt a little weird. Off. Like there was something constantly wrong. Being with Dean helped. When Sam first got to college, he'd been so alone without Dean or Dad around. He'd never really been by himself before. There was always someone he knew around. Of course, Sam wished that he and Dean really were road tripping and Dad wasn't missing. Everything was wrong.

Sam managed to bury the niggling feelings by concentrating on getting the last two hundred grand he needed for five million points. He also tried not to think about how pitiful he was, sitting alone in a bar and playing virtual poker. Those thoughts only led to depression, and Sam wanted to keep his good mood just a little longer. He was back with Dean, his family, his life wasn't so bad.

_SPN_

Dean liked having Sammy back. It was great having someone else to hunt with and to watch his back. It could get lonely with no one but yourself in the car, no matter how loudly you turned up the AC/DC.

He'd never tell Sam, but he had almost cracked and called his brother so many times over the years. If Dean was honest with himself, he would admit that he had been lonely without Sam.

Yeah, he filled his time with drinking and playing pool or whatever game was starting up at the bar. But stumbling back to whatever fleabag motel half drunk every night was no fun if Sam wasn't there to complain. So Dean compensated by finding company. All those women, even a few guys, weren't his brother, and Dean was left feeling just as empty.

If he stayed in his room and watched whatever sorry excuse for television there was, Dean ended up feeling flat, like he was turning into some mindless zombie. So there was no good there.

Rolling into town early enough would leave him enough light to work on the car by, and for a year or so, the Impala had never been so well cared for. Dean was almost constantly under the hood, trying to tune her up. She already purred like the happiest freakin' cat in the universe, but he always tried to make her just a bit sweeter.

Now that Sam was back, Dean felt much better. There was someone to grumble at him and give him a hard time. He had someone to talk to again. Not that they talked. They mostly went their separate ways once the hunt was over until Sam found something else for them to kill. But Sam was there.

Of course, having Sam back meant that some of Dean's favorite pastimes were a bit harder to swing now. Sammy had morals and didn't like Dean bringing company home. But he'd just have to suck it up because Dean wasn't going home alone tonight. Michaela here was very interested in classic cars.

Dean glanced over at the booth where Sam was slumped. He didn't look happy, but he'd never liked places like this. Well, that was just another thing he'd have to suck up. Smiling happily, Dean turned back to Michaela. Life wasn't so bad anymore.

_**SpnSpnSpn**_

**Disclaimer:** Supernatural and its characters are not mine. It belongs to the CW and Eric Kripke and all those wonderful folks. I'm just playing with the pretty toys, and I'll put them right back where I found them once I'm done. I'm not making any money from this, and you really don't wanna sue a penniless music student.


End file.
